


All I Ask

by Dalzo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: (or no communication really), (sigh) reylo am I right?, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, that's just what THEY think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-09-27 19:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20413249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalzo/pseuds/Dalzo
Summary: It was only meant to be a one night thing. Then it became something else —something more— but still, it remained casual.So why does it hurt to watch him leave?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/gifts).

**12:14 **

The number is a bright blood red, flickering on the digital clock that sits atop her bedside table. When she closes her eyes, it’s still there — imprinted, flashing with each new minute change, counting down the last few hours — so she relents and keeps them open; wide, alert, awake. 

There’s a warmth behind her. His arm folds over her waist, tight and holding her close. She likes it a little too much; has come to depend on it in the last few months and the way it soothes her to sleep. 

Not tonight, though. Now, it’s only a reminder that this particular safe snuggle will never return. 

**12:15. **

Rey wonders if he’s awake too. He’s silent, the deep pattern of breathing she’s become accustomed to not currently present. He’s unusually stiff, too. His arm should be loose, his body twitching, head borrowing further into her shoulder; always managing to get that little bit closer. 

Only, Ben’s just clutching her tight, increasing that hold with each new flash of red. 

**12:17**

There it is again — another tug, pressing her further into his hard chest, strengthening the urge to turn in his embrace and press a soft kiss to his chin. 

To ask him to stay, not to leave — it’s too familiar, people leaving, and with him going in a matter of hours it’ll _ hurt so much. _

But he won’t care. He doesn’t care about her. Not in the way she wants. 

So she pushes it down, just like she always has. Rey’s become all too good at pushing it all down into the depths of repression.

**12:18 **

Only, each passing minute is beginning to resurface all the memories she’s been so determined to forget. 

~ * ~

Upon first impression, Ben Solo isn’t a likable man — he’s cold, rich, rude and quiet. And when he _ isn’t _being snobbishly silent, his words are often callous and far too blunt. 

Especially for a blind date. 

Poe had insisted on setting them up. Rey didn’t _ know, _of course, until arriving — she would’ve been at home otherwise; in bed, watching mindless ‘reality’ tv, having a quiet Saturday night in after rejecting the offer she’d have appreciated. But no offer came and now there’s no escape. 

He’s tall, seemingly too big for the booth they’re seated in, unable to sit still and shifting against the fake leather every so often. His eyes are almost an opaque black, unnerving as they seem to target her every move: at the bar, on the way to the loo, even as she eats which has her, _ for once, _focusing on proper table manners. 

By the way his full lips seem to twitch at the corners, Rey can only assume she’s not doing a good job. She quickly wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand, mouth full of steak — naturally, the _ perfect _opportunity for Ben Solo to speak. 

“You don’t like them together, do you?” Rey chews quick and hard to ask what he means, but he continues with a nod to the bar. “Finn and Poe.” He clarifies.

“I’m sorry?” She swallows thickly, brows drawing in close, turning to glance at their shared friends — they’d all but abandoned them after the first thirty minutes, leaving them on their own to ‘get to know each other’. 

Clearly, it was going _ swimmingly. _

“You’re upset about them.” He leans a little closer, gaze flickering across her face as if she’s something to be studied intensely. “Don’t worry. I feel it too.” There’s almost a quirk to his lips that resembles a small smile, but it’s barely present; just a fleeting twitch twisting at the corners. “It’s hard to see your friends in a committed relationship when you’re not yourself. They see that too; you’re easy to read. I s’pose that’s why we’re here.” 

_ “Excuse me?” _

“Look,” he says with a wave of his abnormally large hand. “You’re _ not _subtle about it. Every time you look at them and they’re laughing, you frown. The whole night, it’s almost… at one stage, I thought you were about to cry.” 

She sneers at this. “Are you done assuming—”

“Oh, c’mon Rey, don’t lie to yourself — you do that a lot, don’t you?” It’s so soft coming from his tongue it _ almost _sounds like a hum. “There’s nothing wrong with how you feel. It comes from a place of jealousy—”

“Jealousy?!” Her pitch rises, catching the attention of other patrons. He only seems to thrive off her outrage, however. 

“Yes. Yes, jealousy. You want what they have or — _ or rather, _wish that they didn’t have it at all.” 

“I wouldn’t _ wish _my best friend’s happiness away—”

“Not willingly, no, but this is all subconscious—”

“Is this supposed to make me like you?” Rey directs to the table, unable to look him in the eye. 

“No.” Ben mutters, so soft it’s barely audible. “No.” He repeats once more. “I’m just… being honest.” 

She nods once, then twice, lifting her head to glare at him. “Good.” A third and final nod follows. “You’ve just made it clear you’re not worth knowing at all.” 

Without a second glance back, she dips from the table, the bar and the evening all together, concluding that _ yes _— Ben Solo is, in fact, a dick. 

Only a total, utter arse like him could make Rey leave a plate of food behind to be wasted. 

~ * ~

**1:53**

Sometimes, she thinks his lips press softly against the back of her neck. It’s barely there, like a whisper of cool wind, but tickles enough to make Rey ponder if it’s _ real. _

His arm has tightened against her body, hand firm against her chest pressing her deeper and deeper into his warm embrace. 

It’s so cozy she could almost doze — but the knowledge of what dawn brings keeps her eyes open. 

**1:54 **

She isn’t ready to let go. Not yet,_ not now. _ It took twenty years to forget the parents they were never there in the first place — but Ben Solo is real. His kisses were _ there, _his morning cuddles present; he kept her tucked in at night, sleeping the hours away together. 

A lump forms in her throat, so large and tight she can hardly breathe. 

**1:55**

The flash of red coaxes her eyes shut, squeezing them together with such force. 

The red remains behind her lids. It’s never ending. And time _ just _keeps passing.

~ * ~

It wasn’t unusual for things to go awry when they were in the room together. Poe’s birthday party had been no exception. 

He’d paid off her tab — something she should’ve been grateful for, or so he hoped. But Rey didn’t like it; she had money, just like him, and she could take care of herself. 

She’d been doing it for twenty-four years, now. 

With the alcohol in her system, Rey had probably overreacted. Their argument got heated, like it always did, and one forceful jab to the chest was all it took for security to escort them out.

It seems so trivial now, out on the sidewalk. It’s the middle of winter, so cold the only noise in the street is her chattering teeth and the leering group of men across the road cat-calling her from afar. 

Rey grimaces and tugs the short dress down her thighs. 

“Fuckin’ pigs.” A harsh mutter comes at her side. Just as she looks up to see Ben Solo glowering at them, he shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it across the shoulder — all while never breaking eye-contact with the drunken group. 

Her eyes fall down to her heeled feet, grasping the lapels and pulling them tight across her. The word is _ so hard _ to form — gratitude has always been so hard to convey with _ so little _to thank for. 

But she manages. 

“Thank you.” 

Albeit, a little soft. 

“It’s nothing.” 

But he hears her all the same. 

Ben clears his throat. “How are you getting home?” 

“Um…” Rey blinks. “Walk, probably. Finn has my phone.” 

“Can I get you an Uber?” His eyes scan to the group of men again, uneasy. “I don’t… you shouldn’t walk the streets alone.” 

“I’ll be fine—”

“It’s not safe—”

“I’ve done it plenty of times before—”

_ “Rey.” _ He growls, so sudden and rough she glances up in surprise. His jaw is tense, hair slicked back and damp from the heat of the club. He runs a hand through the black stands and, _ just like that, _Rey wants to do the same. 

A deep sigh releases and she can only watch as his huge chest deflates. “My phone is in that pocket.” He nods to his jacket. “I’ll get you a ride.” 

Hesitantly, after battling with her stubbornness, Rey pulls out his phone and presses on the home button. 

She smiles, repressing a laugh. “It’s dead.” 

_ “Fucking kidding me.” _

Rey giggles, watching as he scowls and wrenches a hand through his hair once again. He pauses at the sound, though — eyes softening to a lighter colour; brown, now, slowly scanning her smile. 

“I’m sorry.” Ben says, in a rush. “For not… I should’ve asked to pay your tab or — it wasn’t my place to do that.” 

“No, it wasn’t.” She confirms, then shifts on her feet. “But I, um… I appreciate it. Just ask next time—”

“You wouldn’t have said yes if I had.” 

“Do you _ assume _ everything about me?”  
  
“No. I just… I know.” It should sound cocky, but it doesn’t — not with the way he’s looking at her. “May I walk you home?” 

Rey bites at her lip and his gaze follows the motion. Slowly, she nods. 

He shortens his stride beside her as they walk home together, silent and staring at the ground. Rey’s still got his jacket around his shoulders. She tugs and tighter to herself, finding the warmth almost _ too _comfortable for something that belongs to Ben Solo. 

They reach her flat after a time. When handing over the jacket, their hands touch briefly. 

Then longer as Ben grasps it. He holds it tight in his own, shooting down to press his lips against her own. 

It’s over in a second. His cheeks are flushed and he begins to babble. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. That wasn’t—”

Her arms link around the back of his neck. She has to jump, and it’s clumsy, but her mouth reaches his own. In no time at all, she’s pressed against her door — his mouth is relentless, searching her own; claiming a moan from the back of her throat as he nips at the bottom of her swollen lip. 

They break away, just for a moment. Just to ask: 

“Would you like to come inside?” 

It’s breathy. And almost desperate. But Rey finds that she likes being wrapped in his arms — they’re warm and strong, offering something she’s _ never _really had. They make her feel…

Well she isn’t sure. But her heart beats hard and fast against her chest. 

“Yes.” He answers with a quick nod. _ “Please.” _

~ * ~

**2:01 **

_ Safe, _Rey realises. 

That’s how he made her feel — _ makes her feel. _That first night together, she felt safe and seen; remarkable, almost, under his burning, attentive gaze. 

**2:02 **

He can’t _ possibly _know just how much she’ll miss that look; just how much she’ll miss him. 

Her chest clenches. 

~ * ~

The morning after the first night is awkward. They’re unsure of how to behave. No words are spoken as he dresses and leaves. 

Rey doubts they’ll ever bring it up — there’s almost an unsaid understanding between them, whenever they’re together with Finn and Poe, that it was simply a _ one time thing. _

A great one-time thing she wishes she could forget — his hands hot against her skin, his lips whispering filthy words into her inner thigh, his cock hitting her deep inside that had her back arching, saying his name _ over and over. _

She wonders if she’s made a mark on his mind, too. Rey doubts it. 

Then it happens again. And again. And again and again and _ again. _Over and over, they meet up; his apartment, her flat, in the bathroom of Finn and Poe’s house — it’s an endless repetitive cycle.

A night together, a morning of awkward silence with no talk of what occurred and the ignoration that follows. 

And as his hands find the zip of her dress, lips dancing down her neck yet another time, Rey comes to a realisation: 

She doesn’t want it to end. 

~ * ~

**2:37**

It’s raining. The sound is almost soothing. The red illuminates the window, the droplets sliding down the glass. 

There’s a tear rolling down her cheek, too. It’s hot against her skin, sliding to her lips. She can taste the salt of her _ own _sadness. 

A shuddery breath is sucked in. The rain grows heavier, slapping against the pavement outside — it seems to echo and envelop them all. 

**2:38**

She barely turns her head in time to muffle the soft sob into the pillow. And if Ben Solo somehow manages to pull her a little more closer, _ well, _that’s just her hopeful mind spinning a large web of fantasy. 

Only three hours left. 

~ * ~

“I have an interview in New York next month.” 

It’s mentioned so casually — over the rim of his mug, softly voiced, just before he blows at the steam rising from the mug of coffee she made him — like it’s not supposed to rock her entire world; like it’s not something to even blink at. 

Rey supposes, in that earth-shattering, terrifying moment, that to Ben it really is nothing to blink at — nothing more than a job interview in New York, a whole 3’000 miles (or more) away from her London flat. 

Because, being real to herself here, Rey can acknowledge that she’s nothing to him. 

And so, all she can really say is:

“Oh,” 

Their eyes meet as everything that didn’t make sense falls into place.

Oh. 

When she asked if he’d like a coffee this morning, a ritual after their routine meetings, Rey expected the same awkward ‘Uh, no thanks. But… thank you’ as he buttoned up whatever wrinkled dress shirt she’d ripped off him the night before. 

But he didn’t turn it down. And now she knows why.

Oh. 

“A position opened up in America — a head position, that is, which I was referred to.” He takes a deep sip from the cheap coffee that always tastes burnt to her, glancing away after setting it back down on the counter. “Essentially, I’d be running the publishing house.” He continues, pausing as they hook gazes once again. “In America.” 

“In America.” Rey echoes.

“Yes.” 

She sucks in a deep breath. “I thought you hated New York?” It rushes out in a quick exhale. 

“It’s… where I grew up.” He dodges. 

“I know.” 

“There’s memories there — not, y’know, great ones.” He elaborates, arms bracing against the countertop. “But I’m older. I can move past that, let it die and… make new ones. Better ones. And this career move would certainly do that.” 

“Oh.” She sounds again, brows scrunching in close. It all sounds so rehearsed to her — but then again, that’s Ben. He can seem so robotic when feeling awkward or out-of-place; so unlike the Ben she knows between the sheets, all raw passion. “Well, um…” He throat closes as black eyes shift, narrowing in as Rey trails off and clutches her own mug to her chest. “Good luck.” 

He nods once. Then twice. “Thank you.” A third and final nod follows. 

“I…” She shakes her head. “I, um, I hope you get it.” 

Rey watches him swallow, an unfamiliar shine glazing over his pupils. Seconds after, he plucks up his mug and downs the rest in three large gulps. A wince follows the scalding chug. 

“I, um, should get going. Busy day.” 

“Oh.” She says again, because it seems to be the only thing she can say without bursting. 

“Yeah.” He confirms. “I’ll um… I’ll see you around?”

“I’ll be around.” She closes off their usual parting. 

The sound of the door closing seems louder than it’s ever been. 


	2. Chapter 2

  


**3:46am **

Ben’s nose is cold against the back of her neck; sharp and digging into muscle, sliding against skin as he shifts on the mattress. 

There’s still no steady pattern of breathing indicating sleep — just the occasional lengthy huff, fanning down her back, and _ maybe _even a deep inhale.

Perhaps it’s just her wayward mind conjuring up the action; it’s more than likely. For Rey, it’s all too easy to craft some optimistic fantasy that shields the truth from her own naive eyes. Still… she can't help but wonder: does she smell like his shampoo? Does she stink of the sex and sweat he works her into? Or does she just smell like _ Rey? _

And if the last, what does Rey smell like to him — is it a pleasant scent? Does he think of it long after it disappears? Does it linger on his bed sheets, causing him to delay washing them? 

**3:48**

She releases a shuddery breath. It's shaky and unstable, slow in its exhale.

How long has it been since she washed her sheets? How long has the scent of Ben remained on her pillows? Has he noticed the ridiculously expensive black shampoo bottle next to the cheap strawberry scented one in her shower?

**3:49**

If he had noticed it, he'd probably mention it. But every time she picks it up, it feels a little lighter. 

As confusion settles thick in her mind, Rey burrows a little further into his hold, wishing the clock would stop. 

**3:50 **

_ It doesn't. _  


~ * ~ 

  


The knock comes around half-nine on a Sunday night. It shakes her awake, upright and alert. Rey quickly steadies the bowl of ice-cream on her lap, stopping it from toppling over as her gaze strays to the door. 

There’s a sudden heavy weight to her chest. She can hear the beat to her heart; it’s steady increase, knocking at her ribcage. 

_ Tha-thump. Tha-thump. _

The scenario is all too familiar. She's anxious to see who's behind it; nervous, excited, hopeful — just like all those times in the foster homes where she'd wait for it to open and reveal her parents. 

It never was, though. And it can’t be _ him _ either.

He's flying to America tomorrow early in the morning, preparing for a career-defining interview. He’s too busy to even text. He doesn’t really care either, she’s just a warm body to him. He could easily find another.

_ He probably already has. _

Still, nothing can tamper down that naive wish; nothing can stop the anticipation as she walks to the door. 

_ It’s not him, _ her mind chants, _ it’s not him, it’s not him, not him, not him, not him. _ Her heart only beats harder and faster as she reaches the door, clogging her mind in a heavy haze as her hand grips the knob. _ Please be him, please, please, please. _

With a twist of her wrist, she pulls the door open and—

Ben Solo stands on the other side. 

  


She sucks in a deep breath, and releases it with a small, barely audible “Hi,”

He doesn’t say a thing, holding her gaze with an intensity she’s never known. They start to wander as she shifts awkwardly on the spot, trailing down her neck, head cocking once reaching her ripped too-long t-shirt, pausing all together once reaching bare thighs. 

Rey finds her voice, cheeks warming under his watchful eye. “Ben?”

He glances up. Before she can blink, he’s taking a stride forward; one giant, large stride that leaves them inches apart. He takes her face into his hands, cupping either side so gently — like she’s delicate and all too easy to break; like she’s worth preserving. 

Rey doesn’t believe it, but the way he looks at her… well, maybe she could if someone looked at her like that every day. 

His thumb swipes at her bottom lip, eyes dropping to her mouth. Ben doesn’t waste any more time, craning down to kiss her. 

It’s soft and sweet and lengthy, unlike any other kiss they’ve shared. His soft lips seem even more so, seeking her own. His tongue traces her bottom lip, his teeth tug and pull, his hands work into her hair and pull her tighter.

He breaks away just as she goes to deepen the kiss.   
  
_ “Sorry.” _ He murmurs, voice hoarse; forehead’s pressed together, sharp nose nudging against her own. “I should’ve… I should’ve asked to come over and asked to come inside, but…” He shakes his head lightly. “I just — I just wanted to _ see you _ before I leave.” 

Her arms tighten just a fraction more at his hesitant explanation. _ I’m glad you did, _ she tries to say, _ I wanted to call; I wanted you too. I want you for more than just a night. Please don’t go. _

She can only manage a weak _ ‘Oh,’, _ and watch his face shift with a twitch; an unrecognisable emotion that makes her wonder if she should’ve tried harder with her response; should’ve been honest, _ for once, _to herself and to him and to everything Rey feels. 

He leans back out of her hold a second after her question fleets by, gazing down at her with bemusement. Taking her chin lightly in one hand, Ben licks the thumb on his other before wiping at the corner of her mouth softly. 

“Ice cream.” She mutters, glancing down at their feet. 

“Mmh.” He hums. “What flavour?” 

“Double-choc fudge.” 

“I should’ve known.” He replies with a snort. With her chin still in his pinched grasp, with a gentle force he tilts her head up again, leaning down for one more soft kiss. 

It’s only a moment after when Rey takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom. 

~ * ~

**4:05**

****  
**  
**Her eyes are starting to sting. 

Rey’s been awake too long, refusing to close weary eyes — not even to rest them. 

The heat of their shared body heat is starting to make both of them sweat; the bright hue of red presented so boldly is starting to cloud her head. 

She refuses to leave his hold, however; she refuses to face away from that _ fucking _clock. 

**4:06**

Both would only make her fall asleep. 

Both would only have her waking up to an empty cold bed, just like the morning he flew for the interview; no note, no goodbye, no sign of Ben Solo ever being present in her life. 

**4:07**

So Rey keeps on blinking. 

~ * ~  
  


She pulls up right beside Ben, loitering on the pavement — it's more difficult to _ not _ spot him; tall and broad with his favourite cap obscuring his face from her searching view (a Yankees cap — yet another reminder of his intended move).

He's dressed in a plain white t-shirt and daggy grey trousers, loose at his wide hips. She blinks in the sight; rare and so unlike what she's used to. 

Rey's seen Ben Solo naked. She's unbuttoned the nicely ironed dress shirts and flung fitted black slacks across the room. But casual is not something she's ever been privy to see. 

_ Until now, _she thinks in a trance, wide-eyed as he ducks to open the door to her Prius, cramming in long limbs and clicking in his seatbelt as Rey follows the other cars out the pick-up bay.

"Thank you," It bursts out suddenly, a little too loud for the intimate setting. "for picking me up." 

She nods absently, eyes wandering to his mouth before fixing back on the road. 

The silence seems to linger. 

"Good flight?" 

"Yes — well, you know," she doesn't 'know'. Rey's never been overseas; Rey's never been on a plane. "It was long and there was some rough turbulence at one point but… I mean, I've had worse."

  


"Nice." A heavy pause follows and she eyes the radio — it'd be all too easy to just switch it on and drive without talk, but the incessant urge to ask nags and nags, demanding an answer. "And the interview?"

"The interview." Ben echoes, low and soft, a frown forming on his handsome face. "Um… well —I think it went well."

“That’s…” Rey pushes past the lump in her throat. “That’s _ great.” _

“Yeah, _ yes. _ It is. It really is. Interviews are uncomfortable and awkward and this wasn’t, so…” He heaves out a sigh, almost sounding tense. “Really good sign.” Or… _ perhaps angry? _Rey sneaks a look in at the red light. “Would you like to stay over tonight?” 

Ah. Sexually frustrated. Go fucking figure. 

She frowns.

“I don’t have anything with me.” 

“You can wear my clothes; something more comfortable to sleep in — or go naked, for all I care, I just need you tonight.” 

She feels the violent flush take over and can only imagine how red her face really is. “I’ll need to brush my teeth—”

“You can use my toothbrush.”

“_ No I can’t!” _

“I’ve kissed you a thousand times now.” 

“It’s… that’s different.” 

“It’s really not.” He deadpans.

“You don’t understand.” _ It’s too intimate, _ she wants to shout, _ it makes me expect things you’ll never give; feelings you’ll never share. It makes me hopeful. I’m sick of feeling hopeful about things that don’t exist. _

“Look, if you don’t want to come over, just _ fucking _say it and stop making excuses. I’d prefer the truth over some half-hearted reason about why you don’t want me—” 

The sound of a honk behind them blares into their conversation, prompting an instant reaction to the now green light. Rey takes off, a little too fast, engine revving over her pounding heartbeat. The tension remains. 

She can hardly let out a breath without drawing attention to herself. 

“I only wanted to give you something.” He mentions softly. “A gift. It was your birthday last week and I had no idea. You never told me.” 

A pause lingers as she processes every word that just came from his mouth.

“Birthdays have never been a thing for me. Not until recently. I’ve never really celebrated it. It just… it isn’t important—”  
  
“Jesus, Rey!” He growls. “How can you say that? You’re important—”

“Don’t.” She cuts in. “Please, just… don’t.” 

He huffs, but does as she commands, falling quiet.. 

The rest of the drive follows through without another word. No music, no talking, not even a loud exhale of breath. 

Just silence. 

  


~ * ~

  


**4:35**

She needs to hold onto something before she breaks. To stop thinking, to stop wondering, to stop herself from doing something stupid. 

**4:36 **

Rey needs to do something, _ anything, _to ease a frantic mind running rampant. 

**4:37**

So she holds onto the pendant that hangs to the centre of her chest. It’s cool against her palm, sharp and digging into skin — a dull pain that isn’t strong enough to hurt, but enough to take hold of her brain. 

**4:38**

She turns it over, then back again; she squeezes, she tugs, she flips; round and round, again and again, working it into a routine. 

**4:39 **

****  
**  
**Eventually, she closes her eyes, shifting on her other side, barely noticing that her head his now resting on his hard chest, his heartbeat at her ear like a lullaby easing her to sleep. 

The numbers blur together with time, becoming nothing more than a red hue on the back of eyelids. 

~ * ~

“Here.” A small black box lands on her lap, laying flat against her thighs as the passenger door opens. “For your birthday.” He adds before slamming the door shut.

With a snap of her neck, Rey watches Ben storm up to his apartment building and disappear inside, biting on her tongue to keep from calling out. 

There’s an urge to run after him, too, but the thrill of opening the box takes hold. 

With delicate fingers, she picks it up, brushing over the soft velvet as if it’s something revolutionary (to Rey, it feels it. Gifts have always been a rarity. She never expected to get one from Ben Solo). 

She opens it carefully, eyes widening as the sun catches on gold. It glints, shining with a stinging shimmer that almost hurts to look at. 

Rey can only eagerly pluck at the chain, holding it up out of the sunlight. 

The pendent is a shiny gold sun, small in the palm of her hand. 

_ “You remind me of the sun,” _ He’d whispered that into the inside of her thigh one night after too much wine; kissing up sensitive skin that had her wriggling on his nice, expensive sheets. _ “It’s your smile. And your eyes.” _ To the other thigh, he said. _ “Just always so… sunny.” _

Four minutes later, she’s standing in front of his door, breathless and panting, beating at the frame. 

It opens violently with a swoosh and a scowl morphs both their faces. 

“You left your bloody suitcase in my car, you knob!” She snaps, folding her arms across her chest. “Do you know how hard it is to lug up here? And how much did you take?! You were gone for five days, not two wee_ mmphh _ — _ ” _

His mouth bears down on her own hard and soft at the same time. Her reaction is quick, responding and opening up to deepen the kiss. Tongues slide with a certain depravity, desperate after a week of no content. 

They part, out of breath with swollen lips and flushed complexions. 

“Knob?” He questions, a soft smile spreading into something bigger across his face. 

“Shush.” She murmurs, shaking her head lightly. “I… I really liked the necklace.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes.” She answers, eyes fluttering closed as he brushes a wayward strand of hair away from her eye. Rey swallows thickly. “Thank you.” 

His arm circles around her waist, pressing her further into his embrace. 

“Stay the night Rey. I’ll go out and buy you a toothbrush or anything you want. Just… please. Stay tonight.” 

_ This won’t last, _ she thinks, glancing up into shadowed eyes that stare down at her with a look she wants to wake up to every morning, _ if you get this job, you’ll be gone. We should end this now. _

Instead, Rey just nods, confirming it with a small smile and a soft _ “Okay.” _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh look, more chapters. The angst continues.

When she wakes, Rey thinks she’s still in a dream, stuck in between that delirious state of sleep and consciousness. She’s aware of her body and of someone holding her; she can hear the heavy rain smacking at the roof and pavements and the hot breath at her ear. She knows she’s hot and sweaty, too warm to be snuggled up against someone. 

But her mind is in a whole other world that doesn’t belong to her, happy and free of problems while soaring through the fantasy. 

It only lasts a moment — a minute maybe — until she’s brought back down to reality, recognising that she’s awake in her own bedroom within Ben’s heated hold; recognising that she fell asleep when she wasn’t supposed to. 

Panic grips at her throat, neck snapping away from his chest to take in the clock. 

Her eyes are still clouded with sleep, blurring her vision into a foggy haze. Rey blinks and blinks until the red finally focuses. 

**5:07**

Just under an hour left. She sucks in a breath, half-propped up with her hands to continue staring, throat still clogged up with fear. 

_ “Rey.”  _

Her body goes stiff at the mention of her name; hoarse, low and cracking. 

_ “Are you awake?”  _

~ * ~

  
  
  


Friday mornings together are never a good idea. They wake up late; cozy and warm in the entanglement of limbs they crafted, unwilling to get out of bed. This Friday morning is no different. 

“Rey.” Her name is low at her ear and far too chipper for the morning. “Rey, are you awake?” 

She squirms against him, groaning.  _ “No.”  _ She croaks. 

“Are you sure?”

When she blinks her eyes into clarity, Rey finds him glancing down at her with a small smile. She pouts up at him. “I don’t want to get up.”

He tucks in his chin, doing that funny, frowny thing with his mouth he often does. She likes it so much she could frame it.

“Me too.” He murmurs quietly. “However— _ work calls. _ ” 

“Let’s just call in sick.” 

“Let’s not.” 

_ “Why not.”  _

“I like my job.” 

“More than bed?” 

“Yes.” 

“More than me  _ in  _ bed.”

There’s a pause, heavy and hanging between them. 

“You’ve closed your eyes again.”

“Don’t deflect.” He grabs at her waist, hauling her atop his body. She squints at him, hoping it resembles a glare. “I was very comfy.” 

“Apologies.” 

“So insincere—”

“Am I not a nice enough mattress for you?” 

“Too hard.” She jokes. “There’s no fat on you whatsoever. Nothing to mould into, you know.” 

Ben smiles and glances up at her with hooded eyes, a lighter brown than the one she woke up to. 

“You’re warm though.” Rey buries her head into his shoulder so she doesn’t have to look at that damned expression any longer. “It’s too cold to leave.”

She can feel him breathe in and out; is lifted with each deep inhale while his arms loosely wrap around her waist. It’s so peaceful — so perfect and sweet she doesn’t ever want to leave. 

But  _ Ben  _ does. 

“I need to shower.” He states bluntly, huffing out a laugh as Rey clings on tighter. “You can join me though. I’ll even carry you.” 

She narrows her eyes. “You can’t carry me— _ AH!”  _

Wrapping his arms around her waist tight The arms around her tighten, holding her close as he rolls them across the mattress, feet hitting the floor. In a quick swoop, he’s standing and she’s in his arms.

_ Bridal style.  _

“Shouldn’t have challenged me with that, Niima.” The gentle rock to his steps swaying her side to side almost lulls her back to sleep. “Don’t fall asleep.” 

“You’re too comfy.” The small pinch to her arse forces her eyes wide open. Rey glares up at his small satisfied smirk.  _ “Ow.” _

“I’ll kiss it better.” He pushes into the bathroom, easing her down onto her feet. “Arms up.”

Rey follows his command, smiling as he tugs at the too-large shirt of his right off her body. He leaves her to do the rest while his own clothes become a pile gathered on the floor. 

It’s strange — she’s never seen Ben Solo’s naked form in the morning light. Not like this, so open and confident like has no qualms about his body (he really shouldn’t). He turns away from her to open the glass door and twist at the taps, testing the temperature with his hand while the muscles in his arse flex. 

His whole body seems to flex, tendons pulling while his shoulder blades jump. It’s a sight she drinks in greedily; from neck to strong, thick thighs, Rey takes it all in. 

“Why haven’t we done this before?” He asks, turning back around. One arm keeps the shower door open, the other held out her way to join him. She’s too preoccupied with the half-hard cock between his legs. Ben grabs her hand and pulls, forcing her gaze up as he leads her into the shower. 

“Eyes up here. We don’t have time for that.” 

“Then don’t flaunt it—”

“Flaunt it?” He barks out, amused. “Sorry to say, but this is just how I am around you.” 

She scrunches her face. “Half-hard?” 

“It’s a curse.” 

“You’re lying—”

“Come on. Time to wake up.” With a sneaky maneuver, he manages to get her under the water, holding her under the spray. “That nice?” 

“Mmmhm.” She hums into his chest, relishing in the feel of his hand stroking at the back of her head.

“Warm enough now?” 

Rey leans back in his embrace out of the water to glare up at him. It mellows into a delighted smile once seeing his hair slicked back exposing two rather large ears. 

“What—”

“You have the  _ cutest  _ ears.” He grimaces and glances away. “They’re  _ so  _ red—”

Ben silences her with a kiss. It’s wet and sloppy, but she complies because it’s Ben and she likes Ben. 

She likes him when he washes her body, because  _ no one’s  _ ever done that for her; not her parents, not a lover,  _ no one.  _ Rey likes that he lathers  _ his  _ shampoo into her hair and how gentle he is when fingercombing through the strands. She especially likes that he offers her the only towel in the bathroom, refusing to take no for an answer and roams off, nude and dripping, to find another for himself. 

But it isn’t just like. No — no, it’s something  _ far  _ more stronger. 

That only becomes apparent after dressing and exiting the bathroom finding Ben staring down at his phone, towel wrapped around his waist, glancing up only as she approaches close. 

Four words make it all too clear that  _ like  _ doesn’t begin to cover her feelings for the abnormally large, big-eared, sharp featured, intensely handsome man standing in front of her; four words change her  _ whole  _ world:

_ “I got the job.”  _

And just like that, she  _ loves  _ Ben Solo. Just like that, her love shatters into disarray. 

~ * ~

**5:08**

He’s still waiting for a response. 

Rey takes her time. She breaks after his lips press softly against her temple, shifting over to face him. “Yes.” She answers quietly. “I can’t sleep.” 

It’s still dark, but light enough to make out the ridges of his face and the sheen to his eyes. “Me too.” His reply is murmured. 

“Nervous?” 

“In a sense.” 

“Excited then?.” 

He frowns. “No. No, not really

“Scared?” 

He sucks in a deep breath, the question lingering. “More than you could possibly imagine.” 

There’s a shift in the red haze that surrounds them; a slight blink, dimming the room for a brief moment. She wants to turn around — to see if it did change, to know if that’s one less minute they have together— but his eyes, wild and dark and  _ so  _ damn expressive, suck her in. 

_ “Oh.”  _

~ * ~

“Oh.”

It’s all she can say, released like a wheeze after falling hard and getting winded. She has to remind herself to  _ breathe  _ but everything about it, everything about him — it’s  _ suffocating.  _

“I… I wasn’t expecting this, I didn’t think I’d get it.” He babbles, eyes distant. “I never…” Ben trails off with a shake of his head, finally turning to her with a strange expression. 

With practiced optimism, she manages a smile; wide and beaming and hopeful, similar to the painted mask she wore when telling her teachers that  _ ‘mum and dad will be there’  _ on parents day. 

“Congratulations Ben!” She announces, brighter than the early morning sun that streams through the blinds. “That’s amazing — you deserve it.” 

“Yeah…” His face twists. “Yeah. Thank you.” His jaw seems sharper than usual. 

“Right.” She’s grinning so hard it hurts. “Well um… I have to go. Work calls.”

“Of course.” 

With quick nod of her head, she barrels out of his apartment like a storm. 

Rey doesn’t break until she reaches her car. 

  
  


~ * ~

“Why?” 

There’s another flicker with the hue. Then another.  _ Then another.  _

“It’s just…” he sighs, shifting his leg so it tangles between her own, glancing away. Rey watches and waits, entranced by the way his throat bobs with each dry swallow. “I haven’t been back since the funeral. There was the interview, but — well, I never told her.” 

Rey breathes in. “Your mother.” 

“Yeah.” His inky eyes shift back to her. “Yes. She still doesn’t know I’m moving back—”

_ “Ben.”  _ She admonishes softly, but soothes it by pushing the hair out of his so-so-striking face. 

“I know. I know, Rey.” Another thick swallow, another red flash. “I’m not a good son. They weren’t great as parents either, but.. _ . they cared _ — I refused to see that for so long and then it became too late. And now I’ll be walking the streets that remind me of him — busy, crowded streets that he hated, but braved; always holding my hand so he wouldn’t lose me.” Suddenly, he pulls her closer and buries his face into her shoulder. “I lost _ him _ , though. I let go of him and...” 

One hand buries into his soft hand, scraping softly at his scalp. His tense and taut and there’s a wetness that seeps into the sleeve of his shirt she wears. All she can say is: 

“I’m sorry.”

  
  


~ * ~

  
  


“I’m sorry—”

“It’s alright.” 

“It’s not!” She hiccups. “I ruined your shirt.”

“Rey—”

“I don’t — it  _ such  _ a nice shirt… such nice.” She mumbles, wiping at her face. “Expensive too.” 

“Rey.” Two large hands cup at her face, forcing her wet eyes up to his serious ones. “This is a 70’s costume party. I bought this whole outfit at a thrift store.” 

“Yes, but you  _ always  _ look nice and expensive and I ruined it with wine.” She blubbers and sniffs loudly. “You're too rich for me.” 

“Stop.” He commands, low and rough. Rey frowns at him, lip trembling. She’s drunk, it’s Poe’s birthday and Ben Solo is leaving in three days. 

“You stop.” She retorts. “Stop being… stop.” 

He huffs, an irritated frown forming at his pretty mouth. She wants to kiss it off him and never stop kissing him. 

“Let’s go—”

“What are we—”

“Dancing.” He interrupts. 

“My feet hurt.” 

“Then take off your shoes.” 

“I can’t.” She whines. “If I get down I don’t think I won’t up.” 

“Won’t up?” He teases.

“Get _back_ up.” 

He kneels before her in the secluded area and carefully unbuckles her heels, slipping them off her feet while she rests her whole weight on the top of his head. 

“Come on.” His hand is in hers again, leading the way. He drops off her shoes at the table and drags her to the empty dance floor without hesitation. 

It’s late: 2am or later maybe and all the upbeat pop 70’s music has played and gone. The song that starts is slow and whimsical, buzzing in her head as he wraps around her and sways. 

His chin rests on her head, moving her side to side as she closes her eyes, feeling as if she’s in a distant dream. 

_ ‘I’m not in love.’ _

She could almost fall asleep. 

_ 'So don’t forget it.'  _

Rey wishes she could forget it. 

_ ‘It’s just a silly phase I’m going through.’  _

It’s not a phase. It’d be so much easier if it were. Swaying wouldn’t be such a challenge then. 

Ben holds her up though. He’s good at that. But who will hold her up when he’s gone?

  
  


~ * ~

“He would have really liked you.” 

It hurts so much to hear. 

“Really?” 

“Oh yeah.” He laughs. “He’d pretend like he didn’t, though; like you were annoying. Secretly, he’d adore you. He wouldn’t be able to hide it.” 

_ Are you hiding it?  _

“He’d be so proud.” 

He laughs into her shoulder, finally pulling back. “And how would you know that?” 

“He would be.” She says with a shrug of her shoulders. “I just know it.” 

A flicker falls upon the room and Rey watches his eyes scan over her head to the clock. She turns her neck, holding her breath. 

**5:16**

Forty minutes. Forty minutes left of Ben. Forty minutes too little. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanna thank everyone for their lovely comments. Working on replying to them but, for now, you're all truly the best <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we GOOOO. The HEIGHT of the conflict is HERE.

_ “Don’t,” _It’s a soft chiding, warm at her ear. Ben shifts behind her, reaching over to gently turn her neck back his way, away from the clock. “Don’t look.” 

“I can’t stop.” She admits in a whisper. 

“Me too,” His gaze flicks away, up to the ceiling, while his arm slides around her back to rest at Rey’s shoulder. He pulls her in tight. “I want to throw it out the window.”

“You should.”

“Yeah?”

Ben glances back down; to her eyes, past her nose, landing on her lips. 

“Yes.” She breathes out, chin rising.

It’s slow to start—hesitant, as if he’s unsure if he _ should— _ but eventually, his lips brush so, so, _ so _softly against her own. It’s a short simple kiss that soon becomes more: 

Her arm sneaks under his own, hugging him tight while deepening the kiss. The room, once filled with the sound of rain, is overtaken with short, laboured breaths. He tugs at her bottom lip and soothes his tongue against her own, hands gripping Rey’s hips and shifting her slightly. 

She’s on top of him now; straddling thick thighs, rolling her hips forward by large, guided hands that draw out such _ sweet _sounds. 

She loves that sound; she loves him. 

  
  


~* ~

“Come over.”

It’s said from the moment she picks up. There’s no hello, no how are you—just a demand Rey _ should _ignore but is powerless to resist. 

“Ben—”

“One more night. Please, just…” He exhales loudly, clearing his cracking throat. “I need to see you.”

It takes five minutes to pack an overnight bag and lock the door behind her. 

  
  


~ * ~

  
  


_ "God," _Ben groans, dragging her centre over the hard outline of his cock. He does it again and again, slow and methodical so the feeling lingers. "God." he whimpers once more—though who _God_ is to him is a complete mystery.

It's merely expression; one that resonates in her chest because, _ God _, the friction isn't enough and she needs more, so much more—

"Ben," she pleads, low in her throat. “Please, I need… _ Ben.” _

He listens. He always listens, flipping Rey on her back to give her what she needs one last time. 

~ * ~

As soon as she's let in, Rey pounces on Ben. He's taken aback, but catches her all the same—responding to her messy kisses in the only way Ben can:

Deepening it, tongue sweeping into her mouth, earning a sharp moan from the back of her throat. 

They're kissing and walking, barely paying attention to the space around them. Ben kicks his toe on the edge of the table, a colourful explicit curse following seconds later as she laughs and laughs until they fall into bed. 

He's staring up at her, content with Rey in his lap. He's still starting long after the laughing has stopped, small smile on his face.

It's...different. It's—_ It’s— _

Rey quickly reaches for the hem of her shirt, whipping it off in one smooth motion. 

"Rey," Ben is frowning, hands warm at her hips. "I...not tonight." 

The panic sets in fast—breath unsteady in an instant, heart hammering hard against her chest. 

"Hey—"

"You don't want me—"

"No, no, no—that's not it at all, Rey."

She just shakes her head, hands ripping up to cover her bared breasts.

"Don't," he says softly, reaching up to gently pry her wrists away from her chest. He sets them on his abdomen, flat against hard muscle, head sinking further into the pillow to glance up at her. "You don't ever have to do that; not with me."

She frowns. 

"There won't be a chance to; not anymore."

“No,” he agrees softly, hands hesitantly covering her own. “No, there won’t be.” 

Rey bites her tongue as his reverent gaze scans her exposed torso. They’re all over the place — eyeing her breasts, her bony hips, brushing past the ridges of ribs pushing into skin. 

“You are…” He trails off, head shaking lightly. His lips are parted. “You’re so _ beautiful.” _

Under the hands that shelter her own, Rey fists at his t-shirt beneath. 

“One day you’ll see,” He murmurs. “Someone will… they’ll make sure you know that.” He glances away, out the window. “It’s what you deserve.” 

She can’t even sound out her usual soft _ ‘oh’ _ at this. Something clogs at her throat; it's thick and constricting, causing all sorts of problems for her lungs as Rey tries to breathe; her mind, too, as she tells herself _ not to cry, _over and over again. 

So she simply glances down in response; down to their hands, cradling the last remnants of a relationship that was _ never _really there. 

_ But you knew that, _ her mind insists, eyes squeezed shut. _ You knew he didn’t love you. _

"Rey?" her name sounds so nice from his tongue. It's soft and questioning, hooking her gaze back to his own.

He shifts and stretches, sitting up while his hands suddenly lift his own shirt off, throwing it over her head. "Here," Ben mutters softly, tugging it down, smiling when she pops her arms through the sleeves. "I want you," he confesses, arms looping around her back to pull them down together. She's snuggled up tight in his arms, clinging on tighter than necessary. "But I want this for tonight more—just this."

Fingers stroke at her spine, up and down, almost lazy. It's a touch that makes her crazy. 

"I just want to sleep; I just want you here with me. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Okay," Rey says, because what else is there to say to that? 

"Okay." He repeats. "Shall I get the light?"

~ * ~

  
  


By the hem of her sleep shorts, he lifts her hips and tugs them down to her ankles before those large hands lay upon toned thighs and _ press _until they’re flat against the mattress, open and wide and exposed to his view. 

He shifts forward until he settles between her legs, weight warm and welcome while his mouth descends upon her skin. 

The shirt he _ insisted _ she wear is suddenly pushed up to her neck, lips mouthing over her collar bone, tongue following the dip to the valley between Rey’s breast. He kisses along the ribs she _ hates _to see in the mirror; he takes a tight nipple in his mouth, a soothing swirl and painful nip the perfect mixture to draw forth sounds that has him smiling into her skin. 

Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, ankles locking to cling on because she doesn’t _ ever _want to let go. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” He murmurs thickly before kissing her deep, moaning into her mouth while his hips thrust forward to grind into her center. “Just wanted to hold you.” 

Rey feverishly kisses him back; it’s messy and imperfect, but she’s riding the high that is the delicious friction of his erection against her cotton-covered cunt. 

“Off,” Her voice is muffled against his soft lips. “Take them off.” 

Ben does as she pleases, fingers tangling with the waistband of her undies, yanking them off swiftly. 

“Yours too.” 

With a smile, he follows that command just as speedily; cock springing free, hard and desperate as precum beads at his head. At this point, she wants a million different things—she wants to take him into her mouth and watch him fall apart; she wants to ride him until the sun rises or beg him to take her from behind. Hell, she _ considers _asking him to fuck her in the ass because they never did get ‘round to that and they’re running out of time and—

“Beautiful,” He utters for the second time that night, hands grappling at her hips to tug her closer. Ben’s gaze shines, taking in every inch of her body.

His hand cups her sex, gliding over her slit; thumbing at her clit in small circles that has her jolting with each slow roll. A finger sinks into her entrance, curling. Then another follows, a stretch that has her head falling back onto the pillows because _ God— _

“You’re ready for me this quick?” 

“Yes,” She gasps, canting her hips forward. “Yes, _ please, _I need—”

“Alright,” he hums, hulking forward shuffling closer to lean into her warmth. “I’ve got you.” 

The hand filling her so deliciously retracts, a whine falling from her throat as it settles over her shoulder. It’s quickly followed by a pleased groan as the head of his cock nudges her opening, slowly and gently stretching her around him.

They both let out a long, lingering and broken moan as he bottoms out and their hips meet, flesh to flesh. 

“Fuck,” He curses, left hand grabbing at her leg, folding her knee and—

_ “Ah,” _

Somehow, he slides in deeper. Then he starts to move. 

It’s slow; his breath his warm in her ear, his hard body pressed close—more weight settled on top than he usually allows. The arm at her head shuffles beneath it, cradling her neck with a gentleness that stings at her eyes as Ben snaps his hips in slow, deep rolls. 

Her head becomes hazy as the feeling in her abdomen tightens. There’s a coil there, tightening until it’s ready to snap and unleash a whole load of unresolved tension—steady in it’s climb as his thrusts become faster and harder, the sound of skin smacking together filling the room along with the occasional groan or sigh or gasp because _ fuck _—

Just _ fuck. _

That’s the only way to describe how Rey accurately feels. This is so very different, so very unusual. There’s no filthy words muttered into her ears or a rough hold to her hips while he pounds away. 

No—_no_—this is deeper. This is something else; it has to be. Ben’s holding her closer than he ever dared, his body almost a cocoon around her own. This isn’t hard or fast or rushed, but slow and lingering. 

This is _ preservation; _torturous, divine preservation. 

His lips suck at her shoulder, they kiss up her neck as his thrusts become messy and uncalculated. A hand slips between their thighs, bearing down on the bundle of nerves that has her jolting beneath him. 

It doesn’t stop; not as he kisses her sloppily or whispers something that sounds _ suspiciously _ close to ‘love’ into her neck. It doesn’t stop until they’re both crying out and falling, coming together in a daze with each other’s names on their tongues and _ fuck— _

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

Just fuck. 

~ * ~

As the lights come off, the room glows a dim red. 

Rey blinks as his arm settles over her waist, turning on her side to find its source. 

**11:32**

For a minute, she studies the clock; she studies as it changes its last digit from a 2 to a 3. 

Rey stares long enough for the image to burn into her vision for a lifetime. 

~ * ~

There’s a wet cloth between her legs, cleaning up the final act of their intimacy just as the sun begins to shine through his blinds. 

He’s soft and careful; almost methodical, cleaning up a mix of his cum and her arousal, eyes glancing up to her own every so often. 

After, he reaches up and pulls the shirt back down until it falls past her thighs, shrugging back on the boxers before returning to her side. 

Nothing is said during this time and so Rey closes her eyes, relaxed and sated for the first time that morning. Nothing until:

“Come with me.” 

She opens her eyes at this, finding Ben propped up on his elbow, smiling down at her—an open mouthed, crooked teeth kind of smile. 

“What?” 

“Come with me.” It’s not a question or a plea. To Rey’s ears, it almost sounds like a command blurted out in one quick breath. “To New York, come with me—I’ll book you a flight, you can live in my apartment rent free. Just—_ please _—come with me.” His smile fades, lip trembleing slightly while blowing out an unsteady breath. “I just…I don’t want to lose you.” 

The pause is undeniably loud. How _ is it _ that silence can seem so fucking loud and all-consuming? It’s so loud in this one spot next to him that she jumps up, the atmosphere tense as she comprehends _ everything _he just said. 

“Ben, that’s—”

“Please.” He begs softly. Then, louder and perhaps _almost _viciously, _“Please.” _

“You can’t just…” She shakes her head, head bowing to keep the tears at bay. “You can’t just drop this on the morning you leave. That’s not fair.” 

“I don’t…” He trails off, sitting up on the mattress. “You’re saying no?” 

“Yes, _ yes, _of course I’m saying no.” Rey laughs out bitterly, turning away from his pained expression to pace his room. “This is a huge life decision you’re asking of me—maybe, if I’d...if you’d asked before, maybe, but even then—”

“What’s keeping you here, Rey?” He snaps, following her motion to move off the bed; to stand and come closer. “You have no family in this city; your job doesn’t pay you enough _ nor _ do you particularly enjoy it. You have nothing here. You’re _ nothing _here,” He shakes his head, lips pressed together tight. “But not to me. 

“We could...we could make a life together in New York—we could start fresh and stop pretending like _ this _doesn’t actually mean anything. Because it’s everything to me—”

“I have a life here!” 

“What, Finn and Poe?” He questions harshly, voice booming, nodding a little too frantically while taking a large stride forward. “Sure. You love them and they love you, but don’t act like _ seeing _ their relationship doesn’t hurt you; don’t act like you _ don’t _feel abandoned by them—”

“Stop it!”

“But I won’t abandon you. Not like the parents who you’re _ still _fucking holding on to when they’re never fucking coming back, Rey. I won’t do that, not ever—”

“But you are, _ you are!” _Rey yells through her tears, sniffing loudly. “You’re leaving me right now—”

“I’m asking you to come with me—”

“I _ can’t _ !” Her voice cracks like a whip. “I can’t just pack up _ my life _ because you want me to. You can’t just confess all of this last minute and expect me to do as you please.” Rey brushes the frustrated tears away, wishing it was his hands instead; wishing he was soothing and calming and not yelling because this _ isn’t _fair. “I’m not a toy to pack in your suitcase—”

“A toy?!” 

“That’s how it feels—that’s how it felt with you! You called when I was needed, and then after what did I matter—”

“You’re _ kidding?!” _ Ben’s all up in her space now, sneering down at her. He’s _ furious. _ “I _ care _about you more than anyone or anything—”

“You never made that clear—”

“Neither did you!” Ben’s teeth are bared, neck tight with veins. “You never said anything even when I pushed and pushed for a reaction—but there was no fucking reaction. Just a smile and a congratulations when I got that interview, like it was nothing; like it wouldn’t change everything.” 

For a moment, he seems like he’s crying; dark eyes shining over as he continues far too loudly for the early morning. 

“And I waited and waited for you to say something, to show _ any _ kind of sign of disagreement, but nothing. I’m done waiting. Waiting so long was a mistake and, _ yes, _ I should’ve said something sooner, but I didn’t. And so I’m asking you now—I’m telling you now—I love you.” There’s a small shake to his head, eyes wild, unflinching storm, unwilling to move or leave her own. “I _ love _ you and I’m asking you now to please— _ please _—just...come with me?” 

The world falls silent. There’s not a sound to be heard; not the rain or her heart or his heavy laboured breaths. Nothing. 

Nothing at all. 

Until: 

“I need you.” He begs, one tear slipping down his cheek as his lips tremble. _ “Please.” _

There’s another beat. 

A consideration. 

Finally, a decision. 

“It’s too late.” 

Ben doesn’t say another word as she quickly gathers her bag and scattered clothes, leaving his apartment for the last time. 

  
Leaving _ him _for the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I v much promise resolve in the next chapter. Don't worry folks, we gettin' that HEA!
> 
> Thanks for reading. It's late here so I'll be naughty and respond to all your lovely, heartwarming comments on the last chapter tomorrow (sneakily) at work. 
> 
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO MY BISH REBECCA! Hope you have a bloody good day and get spoiled with many, many gifts -- you deserve only the best!


End file.
